Dusty Age
by Sopheryl
Summary: Dragon Age 2, set in a Wild West setting. Guns, horses, and lots of whiskey. Lady Hawke. Story will probably be Hawke/Fenris or Hawke/Anders later on.
1. Chapter 1

_A/n: Let me say now that I am a huge hack. Primarily this will end up being Dragon Age 2's plot but in a Western setting. I have made a few changes, and there will be fillers and things between major events, so it's not exactly cookie-cutted. I still hope it's an enjoyable read. _

_Quick notes - The are swords in this fic, yes, even though it doesn't make much sense with guns around. But hey, Dragon Age used crossbows and bows, so there. Hawke is female, a rogue, and sarcastic. She carries around pistols and double daggers, and once in awhile a rifle. Chances are this story will be either Hawke/Fenris or Hawke/Anders, I just haven't chosen so we'll see how things go. I tried to use as few technical terms with the horses as possible because I know how confusing horse breed/colors can be if you don't know about them. If I used a term that you're totally lost on feel free to ask for clarification - there's just some things I don't know how to describe without using the terms I know. Mabari will always be named 'Rabbit' for me, it's just how these things happen._

_Also, I live in Alaska, so I really don't know anything about the west outside of what I see in video games and movies. Please pardon my ignorance._

* * *

><p>Shots rang out and echoed off the hills. It wasn't exactly a rare occurrence in the area of Kirkwall. Maker <em>knew<em> that half of Kirkwall's population were members of gangs or on less than fortunate streaks. People were mugged and shot at on a daily basis, enough to keep the sheriff and doctors and other healers busy in the town.

The only reason this particular day was uncommon was because they didn't end quickly, and they were out of the range of normal city dealings.

The truth of the matter was that, several miles outside of the city, a firefight was going on. Members of two different gangs took turns peering out from behind cover and shooting, neither daring to get close enough for swords and daggers just yet. One gang was the Coterie, certainly the largest gang in Kirkwall and one that disliked other gangs dipping into their business. The other gang was simply known as Isabela's people, a small gang that their leader liked to call pirates despite the fact that the nearest sea was several days away. It wasn't even that Isabela was really the leader. Hawke had gathered most of them together, and did most of the missions, but Isabela was the one who had won their headquarters in a game of Wicked Grace.

"_Merril!_" Hawke snapped, looking at the Dalish across the way. Her hat did a good job of shading her eyes from the sun's glare. "Can you put that blood magic of yours to use? Keeper magic? Anything?" She pressed another bullet into the gun, breaking cover only long enough to shoot. An unfortunate Coterie gang member had chosen that moment to look out. He now laid on the ground, dead, gun hanging in limp fingers.

The elf behind the large rock flinched as another bullet hit her cover. "It's very hard to focus here Hawke!" She let out a loud, startled noise when there was another bullet shot and bounced off the rock. "Do you think they're getting tired?"

"Varric!" Hawke looked to her left. "What about-"

"Bianca's firing as fast as she can, Hawke," Varric said, reloading his crossbow. Of all things the dwarf had a crossbow, when everyone else except for the wandering Dalish had moved onto guns. It did it's job, sure, it was just odd. "Anyways, I'm just waiting on Rivaini to sneak around back there. When they're distracted with her, you can move in to close quarters, Daisy can make with the magic, and I'll stick back here."

Hawke reloaded her gun again, frowning under her hat. "And when were you and Isabela going to inform me of your plan?"

"A few moments before she yelled at you and Daisy to get out there." Varric shrugged, ducking out of cover long enough to shoot a bolt.

Right about then Hawke heard Isabela yell her name, sounding angry. Hawke rolled out of the cover, firing off both guns before ducking behind the rock Merril was behind.

"Merril, follow my lead," Hawke said, putting her guns back into their holsters. She picked up her daggers instead as Isabella yelled for them again. "Let's go!" Hawke rolled back out of the cover and charged the enemy line, avoiding bullets as she was shot at. She glanced back when she heard a large crack, and grinned when she saw the rock shatter.

Magic pulled the shattered rock close to Merril's body as she swung her staff through the air. Bullets bounced off the rock armor as she followed Hawke at a walking pace, pausing to lob spells and send the other gang members running for new cover when they found themselves full of rocks and thorns. She was a blood mage, which was distasteful, but Hawke couldn't disagree that the little Dalish was handy.

"What took you?" Isabela called when she kicked the legs out from under someone. Another kick sent a gun into the brush, and a flick of the wrist sent a dagger into a throat.

"You know how I love to make an entrance," Hawke said with a grin and a wink. She swung her dagger out at the near thug-on-fire. "I think the Coterie is getting worse!"

"These all must be new," Isabela said, kicking someone in the face before watching him meet a thorny end from another Dalish spell.

The thugs hadn't stood much of a chance once Hawke and Isabela were close. It was hard to top their skills with daggers and the occasional short sword, hard to top the magic of their gang's resident mages, and hard to top the connections they'd all made. They'd gained quite a bit of power in a small time frame, and that didn't make the other gangs in the city very happy.

That had been why there was a trap waiting for them at what was supposed to be an easy job. Well, it was the Coterie's mistake for not sending better people.

They had minimal injuries. The Coterie, however, had a bad case of dead or cowardice. They didn't bother to chance down those that were running. Why waste the energy?

Isabela let out a loud sigh, resting her hands on her hips. "I can't believe this was a trap. We can't be wasting time like this."

Hawke kneeled down to one of the fallen, digging through his pockets. When she found a small coin purse and whistled and held it up. "It's not all bad, Isabela. Think, at least they'll pay for our drinks tonight. And this is a nice gun."

"Alright. Call your Mabari and let's search the bodies so we can get back." Isabela sighed again. "I could use a shot of whiskey. Or ten."

Hawke laughed and let out a loud whistle. It carried far and over the next hill where a stocky horse's ears perked before it lifted it's head and started toward the source. Three other horses followed.

"I bet we could sell these other guns," Hawke said, turning a gun over in her hand. "They're not bad make. I think this one is Antivan. Ooh! This one is Orleasian! Merril, look at this!" Hawke held the gun out to the Dalish, pointing at slight carvings etched into the gun itself. "The Orelsians love to make things pretty. This one is subtle. It probably got taken off a Chevalier." She checked that it was empty before pressing it into Merril's hands.

"Oh, it's pretty," Merril said, looking it over. "Can I really have it?"

"It's all yours, Daisy," Varric said, patting Merril's arm. "I'll even teach you how to use it if you want."

"That does sound fun," Merril said, smiling brightly.

"And think, when customers bug you, you can just wave it in their face," Isabela said, passing into the conversation as she emptied someone's pockets into a small bag.

The small group of horses made their way to the group, following the smallest one, a sandy-colored stallion. It was a Mabari mustang, the stocky, smart, and sturdy breed from south in Ferelden. This one in particular had totally bonded to Hawke and would hard pressed to take any other rider unless Hawke told it to. As was the fashion for most Mabari the mane was kept only long enough to grip and the tail was left to it's own devices. Unlike the usual fashion Hawke didn't spend hours at a time applying the intricate dyes and paints to the Mabari's coat. At least, not often - every few months Hawke and her mother, Leandra, would wash the horse down and apply all new designs. Like a dog, he would soak up the attention, snorting and prancing proudly when they were done.

"Who's my pretty boy?" Hawke said when the Mabari, Rabbit, came up behind her silently and blew air into her ear. For his size, small and thick, he was agile on his hooves and quiet. She scratched him behind the ears and under the bridle. "Ready to lead us home handsome?"

"It's a _horse_, not a dog, Hawke," Isabela said, going over to her own dark brown gelding. She slid her boot into the stirrup and hopped into the saddle, dumping her bag of loot into a saddle bag. The horse snorted and pawed at the ground, just as spirited as his rider. According to Isabela her horse was a spoil of battle from a gang in Riviani but no one could tell for sure. It was a leggy thing, fast and quick.

"It's a Mabari," Hawke corrected, grinning. "Varric! You need a hand?" She looked over. Varric's horse, a gold and white thing, was short but hardly a pony, and Varric was a dwarf. It was common enough to give him a step up.

"Daisy got me a rock," Varric said, already in the saddle. The saddle, and all of the tack, was Antivan leather, fine and smooth. One would be hard pressed to find a better set of craftsmen to work with leather. One would be equally hard pressed to find a more expensive saddle and tack, but Varric knew how to handle his money. That happened when you were a Dwarven Surfacer Trade Prince, of course.

"I did!" Merril said, cheerfully, hopping onto the last horse, a white mare. Nothing scared the mare, which was probably why she belonged to someone in the town that had once been a Grey Warden. Technically she wasn't Merril's, but the Dalish had no Halaa or horse of her own. Another member of their gang, Anders, was easily persuaded to let the elf borrow his horse, despite her blood mage status. The first time Merril had seen the horse she'd giggled and hugged it around the neck, proclaiming that it looked like a Halaa.

Hawke looked over the area to make sure they'd gotten anything of value before mounting Rabbit. The Mabari snorted at her and tossed his head as she dropped items into the saddlebags. "Come on Rabbit. We're going home." She clicked her tongue, pulling the brim of her hat farther down to keep the sunlight out of her eyes.

The air was hot and dry in the evening but it was better than high noon. The group moved away from the scene of battle, up a hill and along the edge of it's crest. Hawke lead the way on Rabbit. Mabari were helpful for finding stable ground and avoiding snakes in the underbrush. They made their way down the hill and cross a river that fed into the lake by Kirkwall, one of many.

"I'll handle selling all this," Varric said when they finally got to Kirkwall. It was a large town for the area, grown from a simple trading post ages ago by the Tevinter Imperium. It's location by a rather large lake, fed by three rivers, made it a perfect rest stop for some and an excellent home for others. There were plenty of plots in the area, acres of land for ranches. With the land came jobs, if one was lucky and had a mind for the hard work involved with running cattle or taming horses.

As it had been Tevinter property once, long ago, the streets were all paved with stone. Even some of the buildings were still original Tevinter, mostly in the higher, richer part of town. There were plenty of other, not stone, buildings in the town, though most were small businesses and traders, a few doctors offices, and the post office. The rather impressive sheriff's office and jail next to the town hall were all original Tevinter Imperium buildings as well. The most impressive building was, of course, the chantry, it's windows always clean, it's colors always vibrant. It, _obviously_, wasn't Tevinter built.

Hawke and her group tended to run on the other side of town, where things were a bit more run down and the people were a bit more drunk on a constant basis. The four person caravan came to a stop in front of a inn that was more of a saloon with rooms, all dismounting. They, except for Hawke, tied their horses off in front of the building and went in, handing off what they'd gathered to Varric.

"Isabela, bring me something to drink," Varric said, looking into the bags. "I'll see what I can come up with for these. It probably won't be much, but there are a few unusual pieces."

"Yes yes." Isabela waved a hand in the air, then paused, looking around the ground floor. Tables were over turned, playing cards scattered over the floor, chairs everywhere. A few patrons were busy cleaning up broken glass from bottles or righting the chairs and tables. "Maker's Breath, what happened here? Can't I leave this place for an few hours?"

"Oh, it looks like there was a fight!" Merril said.

"Daisy, you sit here," Varric said, turning a chair upright by the door. "We don't want you to get glass in your feet."

"Oh, that doesn't sound nice…" Merril hopped onto the chair, crouching down on it.

"Anders?" Hawke called, looking around.

"I bet the Coterie did this. I hope Justice showed them a good time," Isabela said, walking over to the bar. She found a shot glass that had been sheltered from the brawl that left the saloon in it's current state. She filled it with whiskey and tossed the shot back with an ease that probably came with years of practice.

The saloon doors swung open and Aveline stepped in, removing her hat and dusting it off. "They did," she said plainly. "I saw you all come in. I thought you might be interested to know that Anders is in a cell in my office."

"So, who wants to pick him up before he starts going on about justice?" Isabela asked, refilling her shot glass.

"It'll probably be fine. There aren't any mages in there," Hawke said, grinning. "I'll go. He doesn't mind me." She looked at Aveline. "So, what happened?"

"I don't know, I came in after the fact. According to Anders, it was Coterie-"

"-_I knew it_!" Isabela interjected from the counter, but Aveline ignored her.

"-And they just came in and started to wreck the place. What did you do to piss them off this time?" Aveline frowned as she and Hawke left the building, doors swinging behind them.

"Oh, you know, the usual. We were better than them." Hawke wisely said nothing about the trap the Coterie had set for them.

Aveline shook her head, swinging into the saddle of a light brown horse with white legs from the knees down. "Anyways, Anders and a few of your usual patrons fought back and then my guards stepped in. I came in and arrested Anders myself, kept him separate from the other people we arrested. More than a few are going to the unmarked graves, Hawke." Aveline thinned her lips, frowning.

"We're just protecting our place," Hawke insisted. She pulled herself into Rabbit's saddle, leaning back. She didn't bother to pick up the reigns. "Rabbit, follow," she said, tapping the Mabari's sides with her heels when Aveline started her own horse away.

"I'll let you use that excuse this time," Aveline said, sighing. "Listen, Hawke, I don't care what you do outside of Kirkwall, but when it affects the town-"

"Aveline, I _swear_. We had nothing to do with this. The Coterie is pushing, we're just protecting ourselves. We may be a gang but we're not murderers like them. You remember what it's like out here."

"Yes, I remember." Aveline looked over at Hawke. "I trust you, Hawke. It's just…Never mind. How's your mother?"

"She's doing well, everything given. Gamlen's a bastard as usual, but hey, what're you going to do?"

"I heard she petitioned the Viscount to return your family's land."

"No news yet." Hawke sighed. "Shame, really, but at least the slavers that were running that place are dead."

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that," Aveline said, looking on ahead. They reached the sheriff's office and dismounted. Aveline quickly tied the horse in place but Hawke didn't bother. Mabari didn't wander without good reason.

The sheriff's office held two cells separated from the formal jail. In one of the cells there were a few battered-looking fellows that Hawke recognized as Coterie runners. They were all keeping their distance from the other cell.

In the other cell was Anders, one of the city's resident apostates and a former Grey Warden. Both facts were badly kept secrets. He looked annoyed at the incarceration but was making no move to escape. Maker knew he could escape if he'd wanted to - he'd escaped from a Magi Circle repeatedly and they had Templars.

"Anders, Hawke is here," Aveline said, taking a ring of keys off the wall and using one of the keys to open the cell. "I'm letting him off because Anders tended to most of their wounds and this mess was self defense on your part." She nodded, closing the cell when Anders stepped out. "That doesn't mean I want it to happen again," she added, warningly.

"Don't tell us," Hawke said, holding up her hands before gesturing at the other cell. "Tell them."

"I intend to. Anders. Hawke." Aveline tipped the edge of her hat to them before moving to the desk in the corner.

Hawke gestured at the door before leaving, Anders following. "So, how bad was it?"

"Bad," Anders said. "I'm fairly certain I set someone on fire."

"You know, I thought I saw a scorch mark on the wall." Hawke grinned as the apostate pulled the tie out of his hair and began to finger comb his way through it. He gathered up his hair and replaced it in it's usual style quickly.

"Luckily, Justice didn't make an appearance," Anders said with a groan. "I guess he can't be bothered unless it involves mages or me."

Hawke laughed and started to walk, not bothering to lead Rabbit. The horse followed after them both without the need for a command. "Well, I can tell you we faced about the same thing out today. The smuggling thing? Just an ambush. We won, no one has bullet holes. I'm sort of insulted, actually. They sent a group that couldn't shoot the broad side of a barn."

"That bad?"

"That bad."

"Well, at least I won't have to perform surgery on any of you." Anders seemed happy about that. It was understandable why. Surgery was messy and required healing and several doses of medicine Anders said again and again that didn't like them using, deadly and addictive as it was.

"The day's not over yet," Hawke said, and that gave Anders a grim look. "Anyways, Varric's going to try and sell some of the stuff that we got."

"Should help the money for that Deep Road adventure. Which I am not coming along on." Anders nodded, as if him not going to the Deep Roads was an absolute certainty. He'd had enough of that in the Wardens, oh yes. Enough Darkspawn of the regular stupid or super smart variety.

"As you've said. Yes Anders, I promise we won't drag you along to the Deep Roads." Hawke laughed. "And yes, it will help but we've still got a ways to go. Fifty, sixty sovereigns." She sighed, sounding troubled. "There are a few repairs needed on the saloon, too…"

"Have you thought about who you will take?" Anders sounded curious.

"Well Varric, of course. And since you're not going, maybe Merril. I'd bring Isabela, but she's going to insist on staying at her bar. Aveline is busy as a guard." Hawke removed her hat and smoothed her hair back. Long hair, in this weather? It wasn't for her. She wasn't sure how Isabela and Aveline could stand it.

"You always go in a group of four," Anders pointed out. "That still leaves an empty spot."

"Well, maybe someone will just fall from the sky. And then, I'll bring them."

"Oh yes. That's practically a daily occurrence in Kirkwall."

It was funny how Anders wasn't really being all that sarcastic.

* * *

><p>When they got back most of the horses had been groomed and their tack had been removed, and inside things were mostly clean up. People were drinking as if nothing had happened, and someone had taken to playing something on the piano in the corner.<p>

Surprisingly Isabela didn't skin Anders like Hawke thought she might. Instead the pirate just complained about the scorch mark on the wall (so there had been one! Hawke had done her best not to burst out laughing) and how she wasn't going to leave Anders in charge anymore.

Anders had simply said that he never _asked_ to be left in charge.

Isabela took another shot of whisky. "Hawke! Someone came by and dropped off some work. Dwarf. All nervous and twitchy. Looks like he's new to the surface."

"That so?" Hawke asked, leaning against the bar top. "What kind of work?"

"From what he said, there's something that needs pickup. It's probably lyrium or something. Nice and illegal. He said it'll be in a chest right near the entrance."

"Sounds pretty easy," Hawke said, shrugging.

"Yes. So go forth and do work and bring us money." Isabela pulled out another shot glass and filled it, sliding it across the counter to Hawke. "And Maker's Breath, have a drink! You look like you need it!"

"Just have another ready for when I get back." Hawke took the shot and tossed it back, coughing violently when she set it back down.

"Oh Hawke, you've come so far!" Isabela grinned. "When you first showed up in Kirkwall you could hardly do one shot. One of these days you, me, and Merril will do body shots."

"_That_ I would like to see," Anders said, sitting at a barstool.

"Of course you would, you're male." Isabela grinned as Anders rolled his eyes.

"Not all men are like the ones that frequent this bar."

"Just most of them." Isabela promptly poured a shot for Anders, pressing it into his hand. "Besides, you're here just as often as they are."

"Only because you all continue to hurt yourselves," Anders insisted.

"Well, it looks like everyone's getting drinking, so I'll handle this one by myself." Hawke left her shot glass on the counter. "Maker. I'm going to sleep so good when this is all over. Where am I going?"

"Hold on, he left a map…" Isabela dug around behind the counter and, after a moment, pulled out a small folded map. "Here. It's a ride, Hawke. Some old abandoned mine. I'll keep your room empty. Unless someone _cute_ walks in. And then, hey, you get some company."

"Isabela, always watching out for me." Hawke took the map. "Looks like I might be camping out if this place is too far out. This map isn't great...I'll see you two later. Try not to get Anders _too_ drunk Isabela."

"As if Justice would let him have fun anyway," Isabela grumbled.

Hawke just laughed and quickly moved for the stairs that lead up to the second level. The room that was 'her's, called so because she was there often enough that Isabela gave it to her and in return stored extra things in there, was on the far end. It was next to Varric's, but Varric paid for his room.

Hawke leaned into her room to grab a bedroll and a few things to travel with. Extra ammo, a rifle, dried meat in case she was stuck out all night, and a couple of potions in case of trouble. She had no idea what she was running into, but if it was something she could handle then, well, she'd handle it.

"I'm out," she called to Isabela and Anders as she left, waving. Isabela waved but it seemed as if someone had challenged her to a drinking contest so she was busy.

The poor sod who challenged her had no idea what he was getting into.

"Sorry Rabbit, one more thing left today." Hawke ran her hand over the horse's nose and up to his forehead, scratching gently. "I know, it's been a long day. It'll just be a little bit longer." She nestled things into the saddlebags and rested her rifle in her hand before she mounted. She steered Rabbit with her legs alone, loading her rifle before opening the map. "Alright, looks like we're going…north." She looked over the map before picking up the reigns. With a squeeze of her legs and a click of her tongue, Rabbit broke into a trot, snorting and tossing his head only once.


	2. Chapter 2

_a/n: Enter the last character. Also, Tevinter slavers, who are stuck in the past. What, you think Hawke can't beat a group of slavers by herself? She's a badass. Maker's breath, she defeats the Arishok on her own._

_I really need to play the games again, but my Xbox ix being lent out. Alas._

_Also, feel like noting that Isabela may own the bar and call the gang hers, but Hawke is the one that really leads the bunch of them._

* * *

><p>"This is the place, Rabbit." Hawke said with a sigh, glancing at the map.<p>

The Mabari snorted and looked around, ears turning all directions. He whickered softly, looking off to the left where there was a small cliff ridge. The mine was built into the selfsame cliff, and there were a few old, standing buildings, but they were mostly fallen and reduced to foundations. It seemed as if, when the mine was living, it had been mostly tents.

It had taken an hour to get out and the sun was starting to set. If she found whatever she was looking for quickly and hurried back she'd avoid most night time hunters. It wasn't too dangerous with a Mabari but it was still dangerous enough, and Hawke didn't feel like facing down wolves or coyotes in the dark.

Hawke clicked her tongue to get Rabbit moving again, moving closer to the mine entrance. She dismounted when she was close, pulling out a pistol. She checked to make sure it was loaded before entering the mine. It was dim, but not entirely dark. Someone had expected a pick up and there were lanterns on the wall, lit and glowing. The fire flicked now and then, casting shadows.

Sure enough she spotted a chest and it wasn't too far in. She stretched her leg out, catching the edge of the lid with the heel of her boot before flicking it up. With a growl she gripped her gun harder.

There was nothing in the chest.

This was a trap.

Rabbit screamed from outside and Hawke turned, quickly, running for the entrance. She came to a skidding halt outside it, throwing up dust and rocks. Rabbit was shying towards the mine entrance and whickered when he saw her.

"Not who we were expecting," the thug said, spitting onto the ground. "Doesn't matter. Boss said anyone who comes out of there, dies."

He and his fellows were odd enough. Their clothes seemed a tad bit finer than most, and none of them had guns. They all had swords and crossbows instead. Their horses, being held off at the side, were all-too calm, their tack all-too decorative.

"I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding," Hawke said, as a few of the people edged closer on the sides. She was blocked in, then. It figured that this would happen the one time she went somewhere alone.

"No misunderstanding. Boss says kill or capture whoever stops by." The leader looked to the others. "Get her!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth Hawke fired and the Mabari charged. There was a faint gurgle from her target, and a scream from Rabbit's as the horse trampled someone.

"Rabbit, archers!" Hawke snapped, seeking cover behind one of the fallen buildings. There was barely enough wall to protect her, but she still hissed in pain when an arrow grazed her arm through her shirt. "Son of a - that was my last shirt!" She peeked out of cover and shot off another round. There wasn't much cover to be had, and she had the best of it.

What had Merril said once? Oh, yes. Hawke had the Creator's own luck. Sweet sentiment, even if Dalish theology wasn't her own.

However, it wasn't luck that made her bullets fly, or luck that protected her from the enemy's crossbows and arrows. It was skill and years of practice that allowed her to aim quickly and duck behind cover before she got shot. A few of the thugs got close and she shot them at point-blank range before they could so much as light their blades to her. When she heard a scream she glanced out, and grinning. Rabbit was running over one of the arches, rearing and stomping.

Well, no one ever said Mabari kills were clean.

A quick couple shots finished off the last few archers, but Hawke remained behind cover for a few moments to make sure no one else was there. When Rabbit walked over and whickered against her hat, he was relaxed enough that Hawke believed it was finished.

"Well, this was fun," Hawke said, standing and putting her pistols back into their holsters. She looked at her arm and flinched. It was just a graze, but Maker, it hurt. "Come on Rabbit, let's get back so we can tell Isabela about how this was a huge bust. Maybe I can get Anders to take care of this, too. Mother won't be happy…" She sighed and got into the saddle. When Rabbit looked back at her and took a step to the side, Hawke narrowed her eyes. "What now?"

Rabbit snorted, ears twitching back before looking back and up to the edge of the cliff over the mine.

Hawke glanced back, then quickly drew her rifle, looking down the sight at the person on the edge. It was hard to see in the fading left but there was defiantly someone on a horse, standing.

"There's no need for that," the person said. He, as the voice couldn't be mistaken as female in a million ages, flicked the reigns of his horse, starting down the edge.

Hawke remained unconvinced, keeping her rifle leveled. She tapped her heels on Rabbit's sides and the horse started to move slowly, carefully, showing the same edge that Hawke was feeling.

When they met, face to face, Hawke still had her rifle leveled on him. Elf, clearly, with tanned skin and white tattoos lacing what was visible on his arms, under his lips and neck. He had no gun, or crossbow, just a large sword slung over his back. Combined with his clothes and the breeding of the horse he was riding, Hawke could only make one guess.

"You're Tevinter," Hawke stated, gun still leveled.

"In a way." The elf looked beyond her, at the bodies laying on the ground. "None of them were mages?"

"I doubt it, or I would be on fire or frozen by now. You know, you could have helped."

"Seems to me you can yourself, miss…?"

"Hawke. Marian Hawke."

"Well then, Hawke. My name is Fenris. I thank you for your help."

"My help." Hawke lifted the rifle, resting the butt of it on her hip. "So, I did your dirty work for you."

"In a manner of speaking. If my true target had shown his face, I would have aided you. As it is…" Fenris reached into a saddle bag, pulling out a small coin purse. He tossed it to Hawke, who caught it. "That is what I can spare."

Hawke looked at it, gave it a shake, then tossed it back at him. "Keep it. I'll just…take those horses." She looked back. A few of the horses were still standing there, obedient, but it seemed as if a few of them had run off.

"Once the blood magic wears off, they will not be the same," Fenris said, warningly.

"Worst case, someone eats 'em." Hawke shrugged, looking back at the elf.

"I suppose I can't argue with that." Fenris shifted his weight in the saddle. He was still there when Hawke returned from going to the horses and gathering them up by the reigns. "Do you know the way to Kirkwall?"

"I do." Hawke gave Rabbit's neck a good scratch, and the Mabari bobbed his head. "I'm heading that way, in fact. If you promise not to shoot me, you can come with."

"I have no guns." Fenris held up his hands.

"Tevinter seems like it's stuck in the past," Hawke said, tabbing Rabbit's sides. "That were you get the tattoos?"

"I do not wish to speak of them." Fenris sounded tense, clicking his tongue. His horse tossed it's head before following them.

"Catch," Hawke said, tossing the rifle at Fenris. He caught it, looking between it and her for a few moments. "You know how to shoot?"

"Yes."

"Good. If something shows up, then shoot." Hawke flashed a grinned and pulled her hat down, easing Rabbit into a trot. The other horses sped up to match the gait.

"You were injured in the fight," Fenris stated after a few minutes.

"It's nothing." Hawke looked at her arm. Oh, was it bleeding a bit? Fantastic. "I know a doctor."

"It's late."

"You run with the people I do, our doctor is open all night. He sort of has to be. Lots of things happen after the sun goes down. Stars come out, bar fights, stabbings, everything."

"How exciting." Fenris didn't sound amused.

"Sometimes it is. Sometimes it's just dangerous." Hawke looked over at Fenris. "So, who were they?"

"They? The men you killed?"

"Yes, them."

"Tevinter slave hunters, retrieving escaped property." Fenris sounded bitter.

"The weren't there for me." Hawke looked at Fenris but the elf was looking straight ahead. "You're a slave?"

"I am a man," Fenris snapped. "Does this look like the Imperium?"

"Can't say. I've never been there. I'm Ferelden. Tevinter's a long way from there as I understand it." Hawke shrugged, leaning back in the saddle.

"It's not so far," Fenris said, still sounding angry. "You are Ferelden, then."

"Couldn't you tell by the Mabari?" Hawke grinned. "Or the accent? I'm a pure blood horse lady, yessir. Came over during the Blight." She tipped her hat to him. "You have a place to stay in Kirkwall?"

"I will find one."

"Or, you can just follow me to Isabela's place. It has room and drinks. Letting you wander around and get mugged or shot? Seems like a waste of a handsome elf." She grinned slightly, then wider at his reaction. The elf stared at her, then looked away and cleared his throat. "Trust me Fenris, I know Kirkwall. Should after a year."

"We shall see," was all Fenris said.

Apparently that was all the conversation she was going to get out of him, so the rest of the ride was done in silence. It took nearly another hour to get back to Kirkwall and it felt all too long in silence.

Hawke continued the silence until she reached Isabela's bar. "Here we are," she said, pointing off to the side. "Here, there's a place for the horses over here." It wasn't much, just a lean-to with a trough of water and feed, but it was better that leaving the animals in the outside.

With the animals cared for, Hawke gestured for Fenris to follow her into the saloon.

"Isabela, I'm back!" Hawke called. It looked as if things had been cleaned up, quite nicely, and Isabela waved from the counter.

"Hawke! How'd it go? And who's the cutie?" Isabela winked at Fenris.

"Just someone I picked up coming back from the mission. Total bust, by the way." Hawke made her way to the counter, sitting. "Where's my shot?"

Isabela present a shot glass, quickly filling it. "That doesn't really answer my question. How about it handsome? Got a name?"

"Fenris."

"He's new in town," Hawke supplied. "Give him my room for a bit. I need to spend more time at home anyway."

"Your room?" Fenris looked at her. "I couldn't. If you need it-"

"If I need it," Hawke said, looking over at the elf. "We could share." She downed the shot and Isabela laughed loudly.

"Hawke! That was very well done." Isabela kept on laughing.

"Wasn't it?" Hawke grinned. "I should get going. Mind if I leave Rabbit's tack here?"

"Not at all." Isabela leaned against the counter. "Say hello to your mother for me."

"I will." Hawke looked around. "Where's Anders?"

"Someone went into labor in dark town, so Anders hurried off to help."

"Sounds like him." Hawke stood, looking back at Fenris. "Upstairs, last room on the end. Welcome to Kirkwall, Fenris." She looked to Isabela, smirking. "And Isabela, don't terrorize him too much."

"You take away all my fun, Hawke," Isabela said, picking up a bottle as someone yelled for a refill down the bar.

"Someone has to," Hawke countered. She pointed at Fenris on her way out. "Don't break anything with that sword, or Isabela will make you work it off."

"I had no intention of doing so," Fenris said, simply.

"Good." Hawke grinned before pushing the swinging doors open and stepping into the cool night. She took off her hat and smoothed her hair back before whistling for Rabbit. The Mabari came around the corner, snorting. "We're just going home, Rabbit. Don't worry."

The horse snorted but walked when she hopped onto his bare back, holding onto his mane for balance.

Her uncle's house was a small thing on the edge of town, near the part of the town reserved for elves. It was run down, though Hawke had done her best to repair bits and pieces as she could. There was only so much to be done for such a place, however.

"Good boy Rabbit," she said when the horse stopped outside the door. "You sleep well buddy." The horse whickered at her before relaxing and seeming to fall asleep. She grinned at the horse before heading inside. She undid the belt that held her guns, and then the one that held her knives, as she opened the door. "Mother? Uncle? I'm home."

"Oh, Marian! Welcome home," Leandra said, standing from a rickety chair by the fire. "You look tired."

"I had a long day, mother." Hawke embraced her mother, smiling when her mother placed a small kiss on her forehead. "I'm about ready to sleep."

"You look it." Leandra pulled back, looking at Hawke's face. "So strong, my girl…You get off to bed, then, before we wake up Gamlen. You know how cranky he gets."

"Among other things," Hawke muttered.

"Marian," Leandra said, warningly. "He's been kind to us. Now, you wash your face and get to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes mother. Don't stay up too late." Hawke smiled. "You don't need beauty sleep, but regular sleep's just as good."

"Oh, you." Leandra smiled, patting Hawke's cheek before going back to her chair.

"Good night, mother," Hawke said, going to her small excuse for a room. She hung up her belts on a wall and stripped down to her small clothes and undershirt before rolling into bed.

Most proper girls would have worn a nightgown and really would have washed their face. Hawke was hardly most proper girls, of course. She was too stubborn, too strong willed, and better with a gun or dagger than most of the men she'd known over the years. It was little wonder the Mabari had bonded to her as a foal.

She smiled, the thought still on her mind as she finally fell asleep.


End file.
